


The Advent Calendar

by lightblue_Nymphadora



Category: Glee
Genre: A little Christmas magic, F/F, Fantasy AU, Fluff and Fun, Pezberry, Pezberry Week Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:23:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightblue_Nymphadora/pseuds/lightblue_Nymphadora
Summary: Santana gets Rachel a special advent calendar for Christmas.
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Santana Lopez
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [images_in_words](https://archiveofourown.org/users/images_in_words/gifts).



> Written for images_in_words, (dreaming-in-poetry) on Tumblr for the Pezberry Week Secret Santa.

_On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me…_

Rachel jumped at the loud banging of Professor DeWard’s gavel. She wasn’t sure what it was with arts instructors and blunt objects, but the gavel was his signature. The students of Contemporary 20th Century Performance all stopped and turned to him. It was their final performance of the semester, which doubled as their audition for the pop show in the spring. The Christmas spirit had descended, however, and the cranky instructor had suffered through five renditions of Mariah Carey’s everlasting hit, All I Want for Christmas Is You. He had, apparently, had enough. 

“So...let me get this straight,” he grumbled into the auditorium mic. “None of you coordinated with each other to figure out which songs you were auditioning with?”

There were grumbles of dissent. Rachel tried not to laugh - of course they hadn’t. Every one of them were competitive scrooges, and no one wanted to give away the song that would blow all the others away. 

“So we have five of you who think you can do a good enough rendition to win a spot in Popapalooza?” he asked, glaring around at them. “Thank you, Dennis, you may take your seat.”

The forlorn Dennis exited the stage, not even having gotten to finish his version of the song. It was too bad, Rachel thought. His had been a stripped rendition with just his guitar. 

“Is there anyone who didn’t pick that song?” DeWard asked. He looked around as about seven hands went up, including Rachel’s. “Anyone not pick a Christmas song?” Rachel’s was the only hand up, and he nodded at her. “Fine. Rachel, you’re up.”

She took the stage, confident that her choice was at least going to be a favorable break from the monotony. Nodding at the pianist, she took a breath and began. 

_With every passing moment  
Thoughts of you run through my head  
Every time that I'm near  
I realize that your heaven sent, baby  
I think you're truly something special  
Just what my dreams are really made of  
Let's stay together, you and me boy  
There's no one like you around, oh baby  
I really like  
What you've done to me  
I can't really explain it  
I'm so into you  
I really like  
What you've done to me  
I can't really explain it  
I'm so into you  
It could be that way you hold me  
It could be the things that you say  
(That you say)  
Oh I'm not sure what it is boy  
But I know I like feeling this way  
I think you're truly something special  
Just what my dreams are really made of  
Let's stay together, you and be boy  
There's no one like around, oh baby  
I really like  
What you've done to me  
I can't really explain it  
I'm so into you  
I really like  
What you've done to me  
I can't really explain it  
I'm so into you  
I really like  
What you've done to me  
I can't really explain it  
I'm so into you  
I really like  
What you've done to me  
I can't really explain it  
I'm so into you_

The auditorium rang with applause as Rachel took a bow. DeWard was even standing as he clapped. She made a mental note to thank Santana for getting her into 90s R&B when they got home that evening. 

“Excellent work,” DeWard called. “And an unexpected choice. That’s the kind of ambition I want to see,” he lectured. “It doesn’t always mean belting the biggest song in your arsenal - sometimes it’s stepping outside of your comfort zone and doing something different well. Right, let’s have one of the wannabe Mariah’s next….”  
*

An hour later, Rachel had packed her things and was wandering through the halls of the building, looking for room 356. The New York College of Arts and Magic was a normal looking building on the outside, but the inside was a labyrinth if you didn’t frequent certain sections a lot. By now, sophomore year, she could basically find her way through the Department of Magical Studies, as long as she had the room number in mind.  
Smells of potions and latent magical spells and materials wafted through the air. To Rachel, it always seemed pleasant at first, but cloying after about thirty minutes. She tried not to spend too much time over in the magical half of the school, but she always stopped by at the end of her day to say goodbye to Santana. When she made it to the side door of the lecture hall, she spotted her girlfriend immediately. 

Santana was watching someone’s presentation, but must’ve seen movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see Rachel through the small window of the door, smiled, and blew a kiss. 

A small breeze of purple magic floated through the door, and Rachel felt a tiny peck on her lips. It had taken her a while, when they’d first started dating, to get used to the sensation of a magical kiss, but now she loved it. She mouthed, “See you at home,” and waved goodbye.  
*

The neighborhood wasn’t one to do full blown lights displays around the holidays. The apartment buildings and random industrial warehouses wouldn’t really work for that sort of thing. Here and there, splashes of holiday flavor were peeking through the typical New York drudgery. The bakery on the corner had “wreaths” of sweetbread. Ol’ Miss Jenkins had wrapped some lights around her balcony railing. The bodega had their hood-renowned Purple Bell Ringers outside. They’d kicked Salvation Army to the curb after the bodega owner’s son had come out as trans, and had instituted ringers in purple who donated people’s loose change to the local homeless youth center.

All in all, it may not have been the suburban splendor of Christmas, but it was home. It was New York. And by the time she got home, Rachel was definitely feeling the spirit.

She shot a quick text to Santana to let her know she was home. She wasn’t expecting anything back, but got a response almost immediately. 

_There’s something for you on your desk. ;)_

Rachel dropped the rest of her stuff on the couch and rushed through the loft to their “office”. It was a desk in the corner with a two chairs, but Santana insisted on calling it an office. She immediately saw her present - Santana had cleared off the desk and left a little shelf of small boxes there. The shelf was green on the outside, red on the front, with little star handles on the drawers. Rachel smiled brightly, and spotted another note from her girlfriend.  
_Here’s your Christmas present - or should I say, presents. This is an advent calendar - you get a present each day up until Christmas. Some are small, some are big, some are dates. Oh, and some are magical. Like this first one. See you tonight when I get home! ~S_

Rachel pulled out the little drawer with the number one on it. There was a small purple potion bottle inside. In reality, there was no need for the old school potions bottles with cork stoppers. A tupperware container would work just as well. However, after the blue eyebrows incident of 2012, Santana went with the witch aesthetic, and no longer repurposed old tubs and bottles. This bottle fit perfectly in Rachel’s hand, and had instructions with it. 

“Pour into hands, rub hands counter-clockwise, open hands like book,” she skimmed quickly. She took the stopper out of the bottle, poured the shimmering lotion into her hands, and rubbed them together. 

Nothing happened. 

She tried again. Still nothing. 

As it always did at times when Santana tried to bring Rachel into her world, a sneaky little suspicion crept into the back of Rachel’s mind. Everyone was born with the capability to do magic - just as, theoretically speaking, everyone was born with the ability to play some type of music. But just as someone might find that they sing every note flat or can’t find a beat to save their lives, some people just weren’t cut out for magic. Rachel had a feeling she was one of those people. But she took a breath, and remembered that Santana had told her that magic was about 75% patience at any given time.  
She tried again. This time she was careful to make her motions slow and deliberate. And this time, when she unfolded her hands, a sparkling tree swirled up in between them - complete with a star on top. She squeaked a bit with happiness. When she put her hands down, the tree disappeared. She tucked the little bottle back in its drawer, wondering what other surprises Santana had in store for that December….


	2. Chapter 2

_I don’t need the presents or the tree; I just need your presence here with me oh  
Just lay here by the fireside, and hold me through the night…_

The end of the semester was flying by in even more chaos than usual. Hanukkah that year overlapped with Thanksgiving, so Rachel and Santana had quietly ignored Thanksgiving in favor of Hanukkah celebrations. They both volunteered with Kurt at the local homeless youth center, and of course, finals were looming. Thus, the next few days of gifts were smaller - a set of earrings, candy, that sort of thing. Rachel had been going all week, and was ready to drop by Sunday. Luckily, it was a day off for both of them. 

Rachel was awake, but was enjoying that warm pink feeling of not being completely tuned into reality after sleep. She was debating getting up and making breakfast when she felt a set of lips against the back of her neck. “Morning, Santana,” she mumbled quietly. 

“Morning,” Santana whispered, kissing her shoulder. 

“Do you want coffee?” Rachel asked.

“I always want coffee. But I wants my snuggles more.”

Rachel laughed, and turned to face her. “Technically we could use today to get the last of our shopping done.”

“Technically we could. Buuuuuuut,” Santana sang, smiling at her.

“Oh god...we are not role-playing Mrs. and Mrs. Claus again. Kurt waltzed in on us last time and I’m still traumatized.”

Santana fell back into the pillows, laughing. “That’s what you get for giving him a key! I told you to let him figure out how to break and enter like a real New Yorker.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Rachel said, snuggling back into Santana’s side.

“Anyway,” Santana continued. “That wasn’t what I was going to suggest. We’ve been going and going since before Thanksgiving. I’m tired, and I know you are too. So why don’t we chill today? Watch some movies, bake some cookies, get into heated debates on whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie…”

“I’m not emotionally invested in that debate,” Rachel said, laughing. “I think that one will have to wait until Kurt and his boyfriend get here.”

“Fine, we can swap that out for sex today.”

“I want more sleep,” Rachel mumbled into Santana’s neck. 

“You don’t want to check your calendar first?” Santana teased. 

Rachel’s eyes snapped open, and she was out of bed in a shot. She ignored Santana’s laughing and called back, “I’ll make coffee!” as she dashed into the living room. 

Santana just laughed, threw on a hoodie, and followed her. She watched from the kitchen as the Keurig filled up and Rachel hit up the advent calendar for that Sunday’s present. 

Rachel pulled out the drawer with the little number 7 on it, and found a note that just said, “Check the keyboard.” She walked over to it, finding a new book of blank sheet music on the stand. “Santana?”

“Hmmmm?” Santana asked. She walked over, offering a mug of coffee to Rachel. 

“I...think I might need a hint for this one.”

“It’s for you to write music. Go on - play something on the piano.”

“Okay…” Rachel said, still confused. She sat down on the stool and began playing a melody she’d been thinking about that semester. As she played, the notes began to appear on the page. “Wow,” she breathed, continuing the song as far as she could. She played about four lines before she stopped. “This is great! It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it. Now, I know that there are probably iPad apps that can do the same thing, but this has something they don’t.”

“Which is?”

“It’s connected to you - really connected. So...the next time you come back to it, when you start playing, you feel the same way you’re feeling now when you start. You’re always telling me that music is connected to emotions, so I wanted to get you something that would help get you in the right mood to work on whatever you need to work on.”

Rachel set her coffee mug down and stood to pull Santana into a hug. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“You shouldn’t tell me things like that. It’ll go straight to my head.”

Rachel knew better than to listen to Santana. The older woman was blushing slightly, and looked really pleased with herself. Rachel knew better than to push, though. So she gave her a kiss on the cheek, grabbed her coffee, and pulled Santana back into the kitchen with her. “I believe you said something about cookies. Let’s bake.”

Fifteen minutes later, all of their counters and tables were covered in baking supplies and ingredients. There had been a brief, but epic battle over the type of cookie to make, and they eventually settled on chocolate-dipped peanut butter, and gingerbread.

“Couldn’t you do all of this with magic?” Rachel asked as she rolled some peanut butter dough into balls. 

“I could, but that just feels…” Santana trailed off with a pensive look on her face, “wrong in a way. Like it’s cheating. Besides, I like cooking the real way.”

“Gotcha. So I can be sure that if I ever accept my afternoon tea from you, I won’t turn into a frog?”

Santana made a scandalized noise and mimed clutching her pearls. “I. Am. Offended. Turning people into frogs? What year do you think we’re living in? Such a harmful witch stereotype to hurl at your loving girlfriend - stop laughing, Rachel!”

Rachel was shaking with barely suppressed giggles. “I’m...I’m not laughing.”

“I think you are.”

Rachel snorted, and composed herself. “Of course I’m not. Fine, I know you’re not an evil fairytale witch who turns people into frogs.”

“Thank you.”

“...what about turtles?”

“Rachel Berry!” Santana laughed, flicking a sprinkle at her.


	3. Chapter 3

_Noone else but me and you, nothing I would rather do  
Than hold you all through the night under my tree..._

Santana stained to see over the heads of the crowd. She had been talking to Kendrick when Spellmaster Torres had posted the results, so both of them were in the back of the crowd. That meant they had to wait through everyone else looking, celebrating, and/or having breakdowns before they could look at their scores. Finally, the crowd cleared, and they rushed up to see the paper. Kendrick touched a finger to the paper, which responded to his magical signature. A bright purple 96 came up for Kendrick.

“YES!” he yelled, punching the air. “Crushed it!”

Santana touched the paper, peeking through only one eye to see the damage. Her other eye shot open when the 100 appeared. “No way!”

“Damn girl!” Kendrick said, giving her a high five. “Can any of us live?”

“Never taking my magical Louboutins off y’all’s necks,” Santana joked. “Anyway, I only have a few hours until I have to go work. I gotta find some food.”

“I’m off to my Theoretical Potions final. Good luck at the mall today.”

Santana set off down the hall the opposite way from Kendrick. Her route took her through the professors’ hall. There were lines of students waiting to see a couple of the professors, but most of the doors were closed. Except the last one. 

“Lopez.”

Santana stopped, and took a few steps backwards so that she was looking into Professor Torres’s office. “Professor,” she said politely. 

“Come in - have a seat.”

Santana did as she was told, and watched as the professor poured them both tea. 

“Well done on your final,” Torres said. She waved a hand, and the tiny wood-burning stove in her office roared to life. “I was impressed at your work this semester. I know you have work in a bit. Toasted sandwich?”

“I would love one.”

With a wave of her hand, the sandwich fixin’s near the stove began assembling themselves and running through the stove’s toaster. “I always keep food on hand. I know your lives are hectic. How is your semester winding down?”

“It’s okay. This was my last final, so now I just have to get packed to go home for Christmas.”

“You’re from Ohio, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, you can rest well this break. You’ve got this semester on lock. Anything special you’re doing this year?”

“Well…” Santana hesitated for a moment, but she knew Professor Torres was somewhere in the LGBT+ community. “I sort of did something cool for my girlfriend, Rachel.”

“The singer? She did a solo during the fall festival, right?”

“That’s her. I made her an advent calendar with surprise magical presents.”

“Beautiful! What was today’s present?”

Santana told her, and smiled at how obviously pleased her professor was. “She’s a music performance major, and she needs a break every once in a while.”

“I think it’s very romantic,” Torres said, passing her one of the sandwiches. “Just make sure you don’t get burnt out. Magical exhaustion is no joke.” 

“I prepped most of this stuff months ago,” Santana said, nodding and taking a bit of her sandwich. 

“Well done. Now, the real reason I brought you in here was to ask about your work study situation for next year.”

“I worked in the library this year.”

“Are you happy with it?”

“Eh…”

Torres laughed. “Well, once you’re a junior, you’ll be eligible to be a page for the Magic department. If you like the idea, I hope you’d consider working under me.”

“Really?”

“Really. You’ve got an amazing work ethic, and you’re the top of your class in conjuring. Some professors use their pages as glorified coffee delivery, but I try to give my pages practical experience that they can transfer outside of school. Take some time to think about it over the break. Applications are due the first of March.”  
*

Rachel was studying for her last final exam with Kurt in the library. They were taking World Music together, and the year had been...stressful, to say the least. It was really starting to sink in for both of them that they’d been a bit...sheltered, at McKinley. There were a lot of amazingly talented people out here in the real world, and a shit ton of them knew more about music than they did. But going into the final, Rachel was feeling reasonably confident about what she’d learned that fall. She’d been staring out of the window for the past few minutes, wondering what Santana had planned for them that evening. She’d checked her calendar that morning, and it was a date night.

“Rachel? Earth to Rachel!”

“Huh? Oh, sorry Kurt. What were you saying?”

“I was saying I think we should end for the day,” he said. “The exam is at 8 tomorrow morning. If we don’t have it now, we don’t have it. You okay?”

“Yeah...just thinking about Santana’s Christmas present.”

“Oooh! The calendar. Did you get a magical gift today?”

“I don’t know, actually,” she told them as they packed up their books and notes. “The note this morning said she was taking me out tonight.”

“Ahhh, romance. Kendrick is mad he didn’t think of this. He just got me cufflinks.”

“Fancy cufflinks, though,” Rachel pointed out. 

“Very true. So you two are having fun with the whole holiday season, then?”

“Yeah. I just...nevermind,” Rachel said quickly. 

“Hey,” Kurt held a hand out to stop her hastily packing her bag. “What is it?”

“I just...sometimes, when she does stuff like this...I know she loves me, but I don’t feel...big enough for her. She’s an amazing witch already. The whole school knows she’s probably going to work for the Salem Institute after we finish school. And I just….” She broke off, shrugging. 

Kurt squeezed her hand, gently. “Rachel...Santana isn’t looking for the second half of a magical power couple. She wants you, because you’re exactly what she needs.” 

Rachel smiled and nodded, banishing the unhappy thought for the moment. 

“Speaking of your woman, what do you say we go visit her at work?” Kurt suggested as they walked out of the school’s library. “I have a couple of things I want to pick up for Finn before we head home.”

“Sounds good to me,” Rachel told him. “Lead the way.”

Twenty minutes later, they were strolling through the local mall. They’d spotted Santana earlier, if her full elven glory. The mall liked hiring magic students - they kept the kids in line for Santa entertained. Santana hadn’t had time to talk, so they’d just waved and continued with their shopping. As they were leaving the mall, they spotted one of Santana’s instructors. 

“Hi Professor Torres!” Kurt called. 

“Ah! Kurt, and you must be Rachel,” she said, walking over to them. “How is it in there?”

“A mad house,” Kurt said. “Good luck.”

Torres laughed. “Thanks. It’s nice to meet you, Rachel.”

“You too, Professor. Um...Professor?”

“Yes?”

“I know it’s a busy time of year, but would you have any time tomorrow to meet? I have a magical question.” The idea had come out of nowhere, and Rachel half-hoped that Torres would say no. 

But the woman peered at her for a moment before nodding and saying, “Of course. Come by anytime after ten.”

“I’ll be there at ten-thirty, after my final.”

“See you, then.”  
*

“Santana, this is silly!”

“Nope. Your uncanny sense of direction is what is ridiculous. Keep the blindfold on.”

Santana steered her out of the cab and up a long drive. Rachel could only hear the crunching of their boots as they walked, and she wondered if they were in the suburbs. 

“At least talk to me as you kidnap me,” Rachel said. 

Santana laughed. “Fair enough. You remember when I made friends with our landlord?”

“You mean when you went and threatened him within an inch of his life to get our heat turned back on.”

“It was mid-winter and you had a cold. But yes - the point is that that moment was the turning point in him respecting me. And your generous gifts of cakes and cookies throughout the year have warmed him to us. Anyway, I asked him if he knew of some more open space in the city that we could use for the night. He helpfully hooked me up with this place.”

Rachel felt a different kind of cold hit her face. It wasn’t the biting cold of winter in New York, but a gentle cold. “Where are we?” She blinked a few times as Santana gently took the blindfold off. It was dark, but Rachel could make out the skating rink. 

“We’re going skating,” Santana said. “I made the rink myself!”

“You made this? With magic?”

“Took about a week,” Santana said as they made their way to the bench to put on skates. “And I had some help from Kendrick. But yeah.”

“Kendrick? Kurt’s boyfriend? He’s coming with us to Ohio isn’t he?”

“Yep - they’re taking the whole ‘meeting the parents’ step. Ready to skate?”

They moved out to the rink. As they skated toward the center of the rink, the darkness of the warehouse building fell away. 

The warehouse was gone. They were in a snowy forest, surrounded by trees strung with lights. Reindeer wandered around the outside of the rink.

“Santana?” Rachel whispered. 

“It’s okay. Just an illusion. Skate with me,” she said softly. 

Rachel took her hand, and they began to skate around. “So...the ice is real...but conjured. The reindeer aren’t real, but also conjured.”

“That’s right.”

“This is amazing, Santana,” Rachel said.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“No, really,” Rachel told her. She skated around so that she was moving backwards and facing Santana. “I don’t just mean this. The whole month. Thank you.”

Santana pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re welcome. I love you - and I just...I wanted to do something special for you. You don’t get to relax enough.”

“You’re the best.” Rachel kissed her on the cheek, and pulled her forward. “Let’s skate.”


	4. Chapter 4

_I don’t need a hundred gifts beneath the tree  
Don’t you know the best thing you can give to me  
Nothing else will do  
All I want is you this Christmas_

Rachel, Santana, Kurt, and Kendrick had taken the train back to Ohio together. Once they were back in town, there had been a few Glee reunions and some family time. But by Christmas Eve, Rachel and Santana were on their own. Santana’s parents, tag-team lawyers, were out in Seattle on a trial. Rachel’s dads were on a cruise. So they were having Christmas on their own - which was fine by them. Rachel had, of course, brought the advent calendar with her. Today’s present was dinner. 

“I thought you said cooking with magic was cheating,” Rachel teased as they sat down to eat. 

“Oh, I made the pasta with my own bare hands,” Santana assured her. “Here’s the magic.” Santana clicked her fingers, and the lights dimmed. Lights began to twinkle around them like fireflies. “Just a little ambiance. Nothing big tonight.”

“The whole thing has been amazing, and so is this,” Rachel assured her. “I...sort of have something for you, too.”

“Rachel - you gave me presents during Hanukkah!”

“I know, but this was something I wanted to do. Give me your hand.”

Santana did so, and Rachel took it, and took a deep breath. After a few moments, stems began to appear, then roses from the stems. They were just illusions, but Santana looked up at Rachel like she’d just conjured a lifetime supply of breadsticks. “Gorgeous! You did a spell!”

“I had some help from Professor Torres.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Just wanted to add to the magic of Christmas,” Rachel said.

Santana leaned over to kiss her. “You do that all on your own. Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas.”


End file.
